


Cautious Tones

by Cernunnos



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cernunnos/pseuds/Cernunnos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: In which Worth and Conrad's relationship is a trainwreck and Worth suggests a little therapeutic ageplay to attempt bring down Conrad's walls and build more trust between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cautious Tones

Conrad’s distinguished brows sloped down sharply – his high forehead furrowed as a result. The blonde next to him was pointedly ignoring his incredulous expression, and instead pressed a bony finger just between his eyes to press upward.

“Vampire or not, yer gonna get wrinkles doin’ that,” he teased.

The younger man was unmoved by the ‘warning’, and instead focused on the subject at hand. “You want to do what with me?”

Sighing, Worth withdrew his prodding digit and flopped his hands into his lap. “It ain’t no big deal, Connie. I jus’ thought ya might like t’ play ‘round all kiddie-like. Lemme take care’a ya fer a while, an’ all.”

“I don’t need ‘taking care of’,” was the sharp, indignant reply. “And just what in the Hell made you think I’d want to do something like… like _that_? It’s _weird_ , and it reeks of fucking… I don’t know… pedophilia or something.”

Blue eyes rolled upward, as if to seek guidance for a deity that didn’t already reside in his body. “Fer fuck’s sake… Lots’a shite is ‘weird’, but that don’t mean it’s ‘bad’. An’ this ain’t got nothin’ t’ do with pedophilia; we’re both consentin’ adults, an’ it don’t even gotta be sexual, either. It ain’t like I’d be gettin’ off on that kinda thing; I wouldn’t have t’ diddle ya or nothin’ while we were playin’ like that.”

His companion’s face clearly expressed that he was unmoved, and Luce shifted uncomfortably. “Fine… I asked that fuckin’ drag queen ya hang ‘round with sometimes, an’ _she_  said it might be good fer ya. An’ before ya go jumpin’ down _her_  throat… I’d been thinkin’ ‘bout it ‘fore I asked her. _Wouldn't_ have asked her if’n I hadn’t seen her at this… It were like a local meet an’ greet fer folks int’ that kinda thing. I figured since she knew ya, an’ she knew more ‘bout this shite than I do, I’d ask wot she thought.”

Conrad’s upper lip curled a bit in disbelief. “ _Issy_? Issy’s into _that_? And she thought _I'd_  like it?” he sputtered. As long as he’d known the bubbly brunette, he’d never imagined that the queen’s deviancy went that far. What was more worrying than that was that he couldn’t imagine where she’d gotten the idea he’d like that sort of thing – and while he wanted to know why, even asking would be a wholly embarrassing ordeal.

“Yeah, she’s int’ it… Plays sommat like a Mummy or a Nanny when she can. An’ she didn’t so much suggest ya’d _like_ it so much as it jus’ might be good fer ya t’ try. Ya done said yerself yer daddy run off an’ disappeared, an’ it don’t take no rocket scientist t’ figure yer childhood was kinda shite, so… I ain’t sayin’ it’d _fix_ nothin’, but ya could have a taste’a wot ya missed out on.” He snorted a bit and flashed a crooked, yellow grin. “That, an’ who don’t like takin’ a fuckin’ break from responsibilities? Bein’ a fuckin’ adult sucks balls sometimes, an’ ya know it. Hell, I don’t think I’d mind playin’ kiddie m’self sometime.”

“You wouldn’t know responsibility if it bit you in the face,” the artist sniped. “And who the fuck are _either_ of you to speculate what I need? Good for her if she’s into it. Good for you if you want to fuck around like that, but why the _fuck_ would you drag me into it?!”

It was beginning to dawn on Luce that this was going nowhere, and he raised his hands in a placating gesture as he rose up from the couch. “I ain’t gonna fuckin’ fight ‘bout this, Connie. It were a fuckin’ suggestion. Ya don’t wanna do it, then fine. I were jus’ tryin’ t’ figure out sommat nice t’ do with ya. I won’t bring it up ‘gain.” With that, he crossed the room and yanked his jacket off of the hook by the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Outta smokes. I’ll be back later.”

It wasn’t a lie; though, he wouldn’t have minded telling one to get out of the apartment just then. It was a stupid fucking thing to fight over, and he hadn’t ever imagined that Conrad would react quite so negatively to the subject. Sure, it _was_ kind of a weird thing, but considering all the shit _he_ was into, he wasn’t about to judge – especially after Issy had explained the dynamics to him in more depth. So long as real kiddies weren’t involved, he didn’t give a flying fuck whether folks liked to play pretend for a while.

If he was honest with himself – which he rarely was – Luce would have had to admit that he was a bit hurt that the vampire had jumped to the worst conclusions. Conrad, of all people, knew him better than most – even more than Lamont, now. That only compounded on top of the bruising his ego had taken overall when his offer – meant as a gesture of kindness, for once – had been shot down. He’d get over it, of course, and he knew he would. But the fact remained that it was difficult to think of nice things to do for Conrad because the man could be so damn difficult to read, and Luce wasn’t bastard enough to invade the artist’s thoughts while he was unconscious.

Fishing into his pocket, he retrieved his last cigarette and pushed it between his lips. He’d give Conrad a little while to cool off before he headed back to the apartment. Maybe, by that time, he’d be ready to either drop the subject altogether or at least talk about it without raising his voice. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be a total cunt and call Issy to bitch at her or get all judgmental in the interim. After all, the queen seemed rather fond of him, and Luce had found her to be quite kind. Heh… Since Conrad hadn’t said that _he_ couldn’t play, maybe he’d take the brunette up on the offer for an afternoon together sometime.

What should have been a ten minute trip to the corner store for cigarettes turned into a forty-five minute affair while he stalled for time. When he _did_  return to the apartment, the karadji’s hands were burdened with a plastic bags full of cartons and junk food, and a case of cheap beer.

“Sorry fer takin’ so long. Picked up some snackies an’ sommat t’ drink,” he called out, slinging his goodies up onto the kitchen counter. The beer was shoved toward the back of his relatively-empty refrigerator; though, not before tearing a can out. Sex was probably off the table since he’d dropped that earlier bombshell, and he was prepared to resign himself to drinking and jacking off to an old porno.

Conrad had remained on the sofa; though, by now, he had dug out his iPad and was engrossed in a game of Sudoku to calm his nerves. He only offered the older man a brief glance before turning back to his device. “That’s nice.”

“Ya still pissy?” the blonde grunted, padding over to flop down and throw his feet up on the coffee table. “Look, ‘m sorry I mentioned it.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the vampire released an unnecessary sigh. “I’m not ‘pissy’, I’m just… You fucking broadsided me with it, you know. I don’t even know where it’s coming from; you said you’d thought about it _before_ you talked to her?”

He had indeed said that, and Luce shrugged a bit as he popped open his can. “Yeah… I mean, it ain’t like I’d never heard of it; I come across a lotta shite browsin’ porn an’ all. But I…” His voice trailed off with a frustrated grunt. It was difficult to put into words just what he’d attempted to accomplish with the suggestion, and since Conrad had blown up about it earlier, it felt as though he was treading on thin ice. “Ya put up these fuckin’ walls… I dunno if ya even notice that ya do it; I reckon ya don’t, but I dunno fer sure. I mean… The way ya dress, fer one. All them fuckin’ layers… Like yer tryin’ t’ keep folks out. An’ I… It ain’t like I wanna force ya t’ give up all yer secrets or wotever, but whenever certain subjects come up, ya jus’ shut down, an’… It’s hard fer me t’ know wot t’ do fer ya. Vulnerability an’ trust ain’t easy t’ come by; I understand that. Heh… I _really_ fuckin’ understand that. But I thought mebbe… Mebbe we could try sommat like that an’ I could show ya that it’s safe t’ be a little vulnerable sometimes.”

Those were some serious – and rather uncomfortable – implications, and it pained the vampire immensely to admit to himself that Luce was not far off in some of his assessments. Still though… “I have my reasons for what I do. This sort of thing takes time. Jumping into something like that… Even if it _was_ something I’d be willing to do… Going all-in like that is asking a bit much.”

The karadji shook his head. “I ain’t askin’ fer yer reasons ‘nless ya wanna share ‘em yerself. Look, I know ya got yer damages; I got plenty’a my own. I’m jus’ lookin’ fer a way t’… I dunno… Help us both along, I guess. If it were anythin’ ya wanted t’ try, I wouldn’t ask ya t’ go ‘all-in’ if’n ya felt like ya didn’t wanna; the whole point is fer ya t’ feel comfortable. It’d be wotever ya wanted it t’ be. Like I said b’fore – it could be completely nonsexual, ya wouldn’t gotta call me ‘Daddy’ or nothin’ if’n ya didn’t wanna…”

Conrad flinched a bit at the idea of calling the blonde by _that_ title, and rolled his shoulders a bit to suppress a shudder. “Yeah, that would definitely _not_  happen. Ever. Ugh… But aren’t the people into that kind of thing into nappies and wearing dresses and shit? I mean, Issy does drag, so I could see the appeal for her there, but that’s just…”

“Not yer cuppa tea? Don’t have t’ wear dresses. Don’t have t’ wear nappies. Fuck… If’n we were jus’ foolin’ ‘round, ya could jus’ wear a pair’a jammies. Mebbe I could buy ya a shirt t’ match them Spiderman bottoms ya try t’ bury in the bottom’a yer dresser… That’d be enough. It ain’t gotta be nothin’ real extreme – mebbe watch cartoons or read comics like a fuckin’ nerd or sommat – an’ we could take it as slow as ya needed. If’n ya felt uncomfortable, we could jus’ stop an’ call it quits.”

Conrad gave his companion’s assurances quiet consideration for a few moments, then narrowed his eyes and glanced back up at the other man. “You’re _really_ not suggesting this just to take a piss at me… Right?” It seemed farfetched to think that Worth would go to so much trouble convincing him just for a cheap laugh, but the blonde was intrinsically an asshole.

“Nah… Not _jus'_ t’ take a piss at ya. Can’t say I wouldn’t ever take a piss at ya ‘bout it, but that’s only cos ya make it too easy an’ I like seein’ ya squirm – ‘specially when yer cheeks go all pink like wot they’re doin’ now,” he ribbed, flashing a broad grin.

Crossing his arms, the vampire hunched a bit further into the couch and averted his gaze. “You’re such a prick. Ugh… I don’t even know how to feel about it. Let me… I want to talk to Issy and…then _maybe_ we could try it if you’re so keen on it, but if I say ‘stop’, we _have_ to stop. Okay?”

“Course!” he chirped over his beer. It was difficult to say exactly _where_ he drew lines – especially since he took great pleasure in causing others discomfort by invading their personal space and decidedly _not_  keeping his hands to himself – but this was particularly important to the blonde and he wanted to make sure he didn’t go fucking it up before they’d even really begun.

Glancing over at the artist, the expression of relief etched on Conrad’s features was enough to pull at his heart-strings a bit. He had no solid proof to confirm his suspicions, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first time someone – fuck-buddy or otherwise – had really taken the young man’s feelings into consideration when it came to intimate shit.

Reaching out, he offered his companion a gentle nudge to the shoulder. “Oi… Don’t go frettin’ it, eh? Go talk t’ yer queenie, there, an’ think on it. I ain’t gonna get angry if’n ya don’t wanna do it. There’s plenty else wot we can do, yeah?”

“Yeah… Okay.” The smile he cast Luce did not quite meet his eyes, and not long afterward, he rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I’ll head to bed if you don’t mind. The Sun will be up soon.” He didn’t wait for an acknowledgment, and instead shuffled toward the short hall that led to the bedroom.

Luce didn’t bother to follow the other man. Though he hadn’t anticipated their little talk, he had already resigned himself to sleeping on the sofa that day. While there had been times before when he had taken umbrage to the act, he understood that it would probably be of greater benefit to let the vampire have his space for a bit and let it all sink in. With their relationship already on infirm ground, it would only take a single nudge – even a minor misinterpretation – to send them spiraling well out of the realm of repair.

In the nights that followed, he pressed on for some normalcy by teasing and pestering Conrad with his usual playfulness that often fell into the grey areas of near-harassment. The subject of that specific sort of ‘play’, however, was not brought up; though, he had caught the vampire trying to be sneaky about researching the topic here and there with a few glances over the man’s shoulder when he fiddled with his iPad. Even so, he didn’t let on that he knew – afraid that if he let that slip, chances of anything happening would crumble away into oblivion. Though it was nearly two weeks later that Conrad finally summoned up the resolve to bring it all up again, it seemed Luce’s patience was to be rewarded.

“I talked to Issy the other evening,” the artist murmured, padding across the kitchen’s warped linoleum floor. Leaning into the corner of the counter and refrigerator, he crossed his arms tightly over his chest and frowned. “Did you… Did you still want to do it?”

Luce had been busying himself trying to throw together a casserole with the hopes that he could simply make a week’s worth of food to be heated up as needed. The counter in front of him was strewn with dirty bowls and ingredients – globs of mayonnaise, shreds of chicken, and cracker crumbs covering most of the available surface. He’d just begun spooning the watery paste into a proper casserole dish when Conrad spoke, but put everything down so that he could give the man his full attention.

“If’n ya felt like ya wanted… Then yeah. I wouldn’t mind givin’ it a go. She…tell ya wot it’s all ‘bout, then?”

“Sort of…” He fidgeted a bit and kept his eyes trained on the floor. “At least… She made it seem a bit less…” Frightening? Bizarre? Conrad wasn’t sure _how_ to put it into words. The whole concept still left him feeling uneasy, however. “I’ll do it, but… We have to do it my way. I can’t… I can’t go as far as most of her partners do, and… We just need some rules.”

Luce chortled and nodded. “Hey… Rules is fine. I’d be more worried if’n ya _didn't_ wanna lay down the law first. Jus’ tell me wot ya need t’ happen…or not happen.”

The vampire’s expression was a bit stony when he finally met the blonde’s gaze. “I’m not calling you ‘Daddy’ or ‘Doctor’ or…anything like that. Just… Just ‘Luce’. I guess I don’t mind you calling me…stuff you usually do. But only the usual stuff. Definitely no nappies or anything like that, either. We could… We could do the pajamas like you said. I don’t… I don’t want to be very…young.”

Though he’d assured the other man during their first conversation that none of those things were necessary, the karadji simply nodded in agreement. “Sounds good. How ‘bout if’n I add to it, eh? If’n yer uncomfortable an’ ya mebbe wanna slow down or stop, then we jus’ use the old traffic signal safe-words like usual. An’ I won’t go touchin’ ya all sexual-like. Might have t’ touch yer arse a bit if’n ya want me t’ pick ya up or sommat, but it ain’t like I’d go gropin’ ya… An’ I could let ya know ‘fore I actually touch ya anyhow. That sound alright?”

“Yeah… I think… I think that’d be okay.”

After wiping his hands off on a nearby dish towel, Luce cast his companion a sympathetic look and opened his arms a bit. “C’mere, faglette. Don’ look so mis’rable. We’re gonna have a nice time, hmm? Ya jus’ leave everythin’ t’ me. I’ll do right by ya.” Or try, at least; though, he didn’t want to seed any further questions of his own ability in the other man.

Conrad conceded to the hug and pressed his face against a bony shoulder as much as his glasses would allow. It had occurred to him over the past few weeks that, unless he could learn to trust the Australian, whatever this relationship between them was would not be able to last. And truth be told, he rather liked how things were between them. For all his faults, Luce _was_ trying to be a good person, and he did have the peculiar ability to draw out qualities that Conrad had never imagined that he had within himself. He would give the old doctor a chance.

In spite of any assurances from himself or the blonde, however, Conrad found himself growing a bit more anxious about it all as the night they’d planned for their experiment drew near. Luce had set out only a day or so after their initial planning to do what he called ‘necessary shopping’, only to keep the contents of his plastic bags a mystery when he returned. No doubt, there would be a shirt in there as promised, but the fact that there were _multiple_ bags left the vampire feeling a bit unsure.

When the evening came, he woke to find that the blonde had long since vacated the bed – no doubt to get an early start by putting up a notice of absence on the clinic door and fixing himself something to eat. At the foot of the bed lay a clean pair of his pajama pants folded neatly alongside a newly-washed tee sporting an iconic arachnid logo. Atop the garments was a simple note: ‘We don’t gotta start til you’re ready. Just put these on whenever you feel like and we’ll go from there real slow’.

He was torn as to whether he should go ahead and dress. Drawing things out usually made it all the more difficult to start, and it wouldn’t be too hard to convince himself that this was a bad idea if he gave it too much more thought. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, he stripped off what he’d worn to bed earlier that day and hesitantly pulled on the clothes left out for him. No use in beating around the bush; this would be like ripping off a band-aide.

Edging out of the bedroom took a few more minutes than usual – this time to build up his courage – and he was greatly relieved to find that things weren’t all too out of the norm. Luce was bustling around the kitchen and swearing under his breath between mocking Rachel Ray and kicking the stove.

“Oh, _sure_ it’s easy when ya got a kitchen wot ain’t fallin’ apart, ya great twat!” he spat, yanking the appliance’s door open to hover his hand inside. Apparently satisfied that it was hot enough, he slid a pan inside and closed it with a huff before setting an egg timer.

“Um… Luce?” He was milling about just at the hallway’s entrance – not quite in the living room proper yet.

Glancing over his shoulder, the blonde canted his brows upward and flashed the vampire a grin. “Evenin’, love~ Hope I didn’t wake ya.” There was no hiding the surprise etched into his features when it sank in that Conrad had already dressed for their little venture; however, he attempted to remain nonchalant. “’M makin’ brekkie. Ya hungry for sommat?”

Even if there had been more than blood that he could have ‘eaten’, Conrad wasn’t sure his stomach could handle ‘food’ at the moment; it was far too full of butterflies. “No, thank you… Not right now. What um… What should I do?”

“Hmm?” He turned to offer his undivided attention for a moment. “Nothin’ in particular. These ain’t supposed t’ stay in the oven long – jus’ long enough t’ get warm through. Once I plate up, we could pile on the couch… Watch the tellie or sommat if’n ya like.”

“Oh… Okay.” That sounded safe and ‘normal’. Rather than head to the couch, though, he shuffled into the kitchen and peered through the dirty glass pane in the stove’s door. “What are you making this time?”

“Tor-tilla wrap things. Ya fill ‘em with breakfas’ food – egg, cheese, sausage, an wotever else – an’ then ya bake ‘em for a few minutes t’ let ‘em get crisp. _Our Lady Ray_ says they’re pretty fuckin’ good, so I figured I’d try ‘em. Wotever’s easy an’ won’t be a lotta work. Ya know I like short-cuts.”

Conrad found himself smiling a bit when the blonde butchered the name for the wraps and straightened up a bit to lean against the counter. “Pretty sure that’s ‘tortilla’. No hard ‘l’s in there.”

“Then how come chinchillas have a hard ‘l’ in there? They ain’t called ‘chinchi-yas’.”

Rather than pursue the silly disagreement any further, the vampire rolled his eyes and shook his head. “As you like. So… What are we watching? Not another marathon of Law and Order: SVU, I hope.”

“Nup! I got sommat diff’rent,” was the only answer that Luce was willing to offer. Clamming up, he waited until his breakfast was ready to slide out of the oven and slid a few wraps onto a paper plate. With his free hand, he beckoned Conrad to follow him to the couch – and once his plate was set on the dilapidated coffee table, he retrieved one of the mysterious plastic bags.

“I know ya like Spiderman, but I didn’t find any when I went shoppin’…” He neglected to mention that ‘shopping’ had consisted of heading down to the Dollar Store to find goodies that wouldn’t break his nearly-non-existent budget. “Ya think you’ll like this?”

From within the rattling confines (he’d triple-bagged the items so that Conrad wouldn’t be able to peek through the plastic), he produced three DVD’s. None of them were in sequential order (which was to be expected considering where they’d come from), but as far as he knew, they didn’t really _have_ to be.

Arching a brow, the younger man sank down on the sofa and reached out to take them. It was true that Spiderman _was_ his favorite, but Luce hadn’t struck out with Batman. Rather than the movies, the blonde had scraped up a few disks of The Animated Series – something that Conrad had heard of in passing, but had never really gone out of his way to pursue.

“I wouldn’t mind watching…” he finally admitted, returning them.

That simple response came to the older man as a relief. Although he _did_ pirate cable from his “neighbors”, finding out what was on the kiddie networks was a pain in the arse because he could never be sure Conrad would or wouldn’t like and when what would be on. DVD’s like this were a safer bet.

It took him a few moments to turn on his ancient DVD player and connect it to the television, but once the electronics were in order, he slipped in a disk and settled on the couch next to his companion. He left his posture loose – one leg propped up on the coffee table and an arm slung over the back of the sofa – so that Conrad could take advantage of a snuggle if he wanted, but wouldn’t feel any pressure to.

It wasn’t until they were half-way through the disk that Conrad finally stretched out to lie on the older man’s lap. Oh, they’d done this before a few times, but the connotations their little experiment brought with it were enough to spook the vampire into focusing on anything else for a while. That…and the show was pretty damn good with its smooth animation and stellar voice-acting.

Sliding down on the cushions, he adjusted his glasses a bit and curled up – keeping a forearm between his head and Luce’s thigh. Although there was nothing particularly unusual about the activity itself, or even the programming (the blonde would watch cartoons from time to time if nothing else was on), something about it all left him feeling unsettled just beneath the surface – something that he couldn’t put his finger on just then.

“Gonna put my arm ‘round ya if’n that’s alright,” the blonde murmured, causing Conrad to flinch slightly as he was pulled out of his own thoughts. When the vampire nodded, Luce lowered his arm from the back of the couch and draped it over his companion’s side – palm spread a bit so that he could gently pat Conrad’s chest. “There’s a good lad… Jus’ lemme know if’n ya get uncomfortable.”

When the arm finally settled over him, Conrad squirmed a bit, but did not pull away. Instead, he grew very still – eyes focused on the television screen but not really seeing what was going on. His skin was crawling, and he found himself holding in an unnecessary breath. What was he waiting for? What about this was any different from all the times they’d curled up on the couch before? Well, other than his clothes… He didn’t usually do this sort of thing in his pajamas, but still! That couldn’t be all there was to it, could there?

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take a few deep, silent breaths. Whoever had heard of a vampire having a near-brush with a panic attack? And over what?! If he kept thinking about it, he’d probably only make it worse, and so he tried desperately to turn his focus back on the cartoons. That seemed to be of moderate help, if only because the tightness in his chest seemed to pass after a few more minutes.

When the DVD finally looped back to the main menu, Luce offered the other man a gentle hug before withdrawing his arm. “Ya wanna watch another, or do sommat else?” He’d never claimed he wasn’t a lazy man, so if Conrad wanted to just rot in front of the television all day, he’d be happy to indulge him. Of course, that wasn’t to say he’d mind if the vampire wanted to do something else, either. This was an evening just for him, after all, and Luce was trying very hard not to make it about his own wants.

All truth be told, Conrad wasn’t sure he could handle lying there for much longer, and was glad for an excuse to sit up again. “Um… What else did you have in mind?” Options were good, and he was a little anxious to go ahead and see whatever else the other man had in store with him – if only to get it over with all the faster.

“Well~ I did get ya a couple more things while I was out,” the karadji drawled, pushing himself up to eject the DVD and return it to its case. Once the task was completed, he rummaged through the bags once more – this time producing a handful of thin coloring books and a cheap pad of blank paper. He’d attempted to stay on theme with the former to include a couple of superhero books, but the others contained more generic pictures of animals and the like.

Setting them on the coffee table, he thrust his hand back in. “Now, these ain’t nothin’ fancy, but I thought ya might like t’ have ‘em fer this kinda thing.”

The crayons produced were almost expected, save that Luce had managed to find one of the large 24 packs; however, Conrad found himself a bit surprised by the 12 pack of colored pencils that followed.

“I’m…tryin’ not t’ be complete rubbish at this, but I didn’t wanna go overboard either in case ya didn’t wanna do it ‘gain,” came a sheepish admission. “I mean… Ya know I got cards layin’ ‘round, too. We could always play a few hands’a sommat if’n ya didn’t wanna do this.”

Conrad shook his head and stared down at the spread set out on the table before him. “No… This is okay. Are you… Did you want to sit with me?”

“If’n ya don’t mind. I reckon my colorin’ll look like shite next t’ yers, but if’n ya wouldn’t mind my usin’ some of yer blank paper, I could sketch out sommat.”

Well, that seemed reasonable enough; though, the coffee table wasn’t exactly high enough that he could reach it properly from his current sitting-place. Reluctantly, Conrad lowered himself to the floor and began flipping through the books – gingerly pushing the blank pad toward the blonde.

Sinking down to his bony knees with a groan, Luce flipped the cover open and leaned over to peek underneath the sofa. He didn’t want to use up Conrad’s new supplies if he could find a pencil or a pen, and surely as often as he lost them, there was probably one stuck under the cushions or rolled up under the edge of the couch. In fact, at a glance, he saw several lumps that might or might not be of some use. Crawling over, he bent down next to the vampire and shoved a skinny arm into the abyssal territory.

Wrinkling his nose, Conrad tore his eyes away from a page with dolphins to glance at the other man. “What are you doing?”

“I think I saw a pen or sommat up under here. I were gonna use it.”

“Don’t you have any in your junk drawer or something? I thought I saw half a pack in there not too long ago.”

The blonde shrugged. “Dunno. I can’t be arsed t’ get up an’ look ‘nless I can’t find one down here. I think I got sommat anyway!” Flicking his hand, a mechanical pencil skidded out – ushering the withered corpse of a rather large cockroach with it.

“Oh ew! Don’t you ever clean up under there?!” Conrad sputtered, wriggling away so that he wouldn’t accidentally touch the thing.

Luce snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Nup! I ain’t got time fer that sorta shite,” he chuckled, brushing the bug away to be dealt with later. Once he’d settled back on his side of the table, he shook the pencil to make certain there was still lead in it before doodling a few simple shapes. He didn’t have any particular idea what he’d draw – he always considered his art skills to be mediocre at best – but if nothing else, he could sketch out a few familiar images and symbols from ‘home’.

Upon settling down now that there was no chance of touching the roach, Conrad gently pried the box of colored pencils open and set to work on shading the picture he’d chosen. He had to admit that there was a certain appeal to coloring books, if only because one didn’t have to worry about editing the line-work over and over again before applying color. As simplistic as most of the images were, he could add in details if he wanted or play with light angles as well. It was…freeing, in a sense; enough so, that his previous discomfort was pushed to the back of his mind.

The silence between them was comfortable – neither man feeling forced to produce awkward small-talk; though, at one point, the karadji looked up from his drawing to regard the younger man’s work and speak.

“Looks nice, Connie. Ya ever see any dolphins up close?”

Conrad shook his head. “Not really. I mean, as close as you can get at an aquarium, but that’s it. One time, I went to do some sketches for a project, and they had a show where you could have an encounter afterwards, but I was in a rush, so I didn’t go to that.”

Well, that was a little sad, actually, but it didn’t particularly surprise the older man. Conrad always seemed to be in a rush when it came to his work, and it made things so much harder for him to stop and really _enjoy_ anything.

“That’s a shame. I’ve always wanted t’ see ‘em up close; I hear they’re real smart an’ sweet. I did get t’ see a couple’a pink ones, though, but they were a ways off an’ I was on business, so I couldn’t really go after ‘em.”

“Pink ones?”

Luce grinned. “Yeah! They got pink freshies in the Amazon River. Botos, they’re called. Hell, some of ‘em are so bright, they look like sommat ya’d see from Mattel fer a Barbie line, haha!”

Conrad put his pencil down and finally looked up at the blonde with a bewildered expression. “Wait… Are you saying you’ve _been_ to the Amazon, or…?”

The karadji was practically beaming by then, and nodded. “Yup! I were flown down there a few years ago t’ help treat a community’a Encante… Shape-shifters, ya know. These were a bunch that took the shape’a snakes, but a lotta Encante take the shape’a dolphins, too. If’n my stay weren’t so hectic, I would’a asked if’n they’d help me get closer t’ the non-magical Botos.”

Conrad couldn’t help but gape. It wasn’t everyone who could boast having taken a trip to the Amazon, let alone deep into the jungle to meet whatever myriad of mystical creatures that lived there. “That’s… That’s incredible! So, do you… I mean, is travel regular with your job, or just a once-in-a-while thing?”

“It ain’t usual,” the blonde conceded. “Sometimes, I have cases where folks have heard’a me an’ request my help specifically, but most’a the time, I jus’ treat locals, here. Not that I mind, a’course. I prefer stayin’ in one place. M’ getting’ too old t’ go gallavantin’ ‘round anymore.”

The vampire rolled his eyes and snorted. “Right, I forgot how _ancient_ you are. Better not sit down here too long, or your hip’ll go out.”

“Yeah yeah… Joke all ya want~ I didn’t say I was _decrepit_.” He couldn’t help but smile at the teasing, though. “Tell ya wot, though, I _could_ do t’ stretch my legs. How ‘bout I get ya some brekkie? Ya still ain’t eat yet, an’ I don’t want ya goin’ hungry.”

Now that the butterflies had been forgotten for a while, Conrad felt the familiar gnaw of hunger in his gut. He really _would_ need to eat soon, and so he offered up a quiet ‘okay’ before turning his attention back to his coloring. No doubt Luce would bring him a bag, and it hardly mattered whether this was a project or personal work – he didn’t want to have to stop if he didn’t have to.

Rising to his feet, the karadji stretched a bit and gathered up the dirty dishes left over from his own breakfast. He meandered into the kitchen, dumped them into the sink, and then began rifling through the refrigerator until he grabbed one of the spare blood packets he kept for the vampire. It was a shame he didn’t have anything more kiddish than a glass to put it in, but he’d been afraid to go overboard and as uncertain as Conrad was, he didn’t want to spook the man right off the idea. Still, though… Maybe they could talk about it later and he could ask the drag queen if she knew where he could get some proper supplies that weren’t quite so half-arsed as what he’d procured for this first time.

Upon filling the glass, he dug through a drawer until he found a clean straw left over from one of his many take-out ventures and slipped it into the drink before returning to the living room. “Here ya go, Connie. Try not t’ spill it, yeah? Wouldn’t wanna muck up yer pretty picture,” he purred, threading his fingers through the young man’s inky black locks to offer him a gentle pat.

A chill rocketed through Conrad’s body and he felt the short hairs along the back of his neck rise in alarm. The unease was creeping back to the forefront of his mind – slithering underneath skin and coiling in his chest again as if making a home for itself. He might have told Luce to take his hand away if the blonde hadn’t already done so. It had been a brief, casual touch – something in passing as he slipped around the table to settle back down and pluck up his pencil again. Something that _shouldn’t bother him as much as it did._  Maybe annoy him a bit because it mussed his hair, but beyond that… Oh, what was _happening_ to him?!

He tried to ignore it again, this time taking a few sips of blood and keeping his eyes on the table. The blood only seemed to make it worse – turning his stomach in much the same way it had when he’d first been forced to drink it. Glancing toward the sketchpad, he perceived that Luce had been drawing stylized animals in some sort of pattern, but his mouth refused to open to even query if it was some sort of tribal hoodoo or just doodling. A tremor ran through his arms and down to his hands, and there was a distant sound of snapping. The grey pencil he’d been holding had broken in two.

“Uh oh!” the Australian quipped, glancing up. “Dun worry ‘bout that, love. Nothin’ I can’t fix with a little tape! Mebbe when yer done, I can clear off them take-out menus on my fridge an’ we can put it up there, eh?”

If his heart had still been beating, Conrad wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t have just pounded its way out of his chest. The tightness in his chest had also moved to his throat – constricting the airway in such a manner that he might have gagged had he needed to breathe. But now he couldn’t even pretend to be human. Now, he drawing up a bit – anxiously grasping the short sleeves of his t-shirt and tugging them down in a futile attempt to cover his tingling arms.

His stony expression was immediately evident to the other man, and a shadow passed over the blonde’s face. Lips dipping into a frown, he leaned forward a bit. “Wot’s-a-matter, Connie? I say somethin’ wrong?”

Conrad couldn’t look at him – not when he was pretty certain Luce was giving him _'that look'_ : the same look he gave him that was a mockery of pity at best. Now, he could put a finger on what it was that had been bothering him all night. The blonde was being _too_ nice. He was being nice in the sort of way that Conrad expected him to right before pulling everything out from under him all at once and rubbing it in his face. But instead of doing a brief lead-up, the older man was taking his time and the anticipation left the vampire paranoid.

_When? When, when, when, when is it coming?!_

The lack of response twisted Luce’s gut and he shifted to lean just a smidge closer – not quite daring to reach out and brush the other man’s hand. “Was it sommat I did, Connie? Dun shut down on me, now. I need ya t’ tell me wot’s wrong if’n ya need me t’ fix it. Please…”

Why was he still playing? Hadn’t he drug it on long enough?! What was the point? What was the end-game? He’d already gotten Conrad to do enough to humiliate him for a little while. Was he really fishing for more? Well, he’d probably get some soon enough. Already, the vampire’s eyes were beginning to prickle and sting. Oh God, it was bad enough _without_ crying!

“Just _do_ it already!” he yelped, voice an octave higher than he’d have liked. “Get it over with!”

Taken aback by the outburst, Luce flinched backward. “Do _wot_ , Conrad? I dunno wot yer talkin’ ‘bout!”

“Anything! I don’t… I don’t know! Laugh at me! Tell me how f-fucking stupid I look and how pathetic this is! Just stop… Stop being so nice!” If anything was pathetic, it was how that all sounded – especially paired with the pale red tears running down his face – but he couldn’t even find it in himself to care anymore. He _knew_ he was pathetic, so why was Luce taking his sweet time in making the observation?!

That was hardly what the blonde had expected, and his brow furrowed deeply. He wasn’t really sure what to say or do; the way Conrad was clawing at his arms gave him the distinct impression that he shouldn’t try to touch the man under any circumstances. So instead he began clearing the coffee table. The crayons, colored pencils, and books were all shoved back in their bags and tucked away – leaving the space clear of anything he’d designated for their play. Of course, they were still going to have to talk, but he could let Conrad cry for a few minutes if that was what he needed, and he could spend that time _hoping desperately_ that he was doing the right thing by that.

When the table was clear save for Conrad’s glass, he leaned his elbows on the hard surface and sighed. “Conrad, we ain’t gonna play no more t’night, but I need ya t’ look at me,” he murmured. “I ain’t laughin’ at ya. I ain’t makin’ fun’a ya. I told ya b’fore, this weren’t planned out t’ take a piss at ya over it.”

That was a very difficult request to obey, and not one that the younger man was inclined to go through with right away. Instead, he spent a moment or so wiping his face in a vain attempt to quell his tears; though, no amount of swiping with his palms would make him look any less of a mess. Finally, though, he raised a hesitant gaze to the blonde’s face – eyes still clouded and watery. Even so, he could make out the distress etched into Luce’s hardened features – seemingly earnest distress – and that only added to his confusion.

“Conrad… Ya don’t gotta answer if’n ya can’t, jus’… Nod or shake yer head. I need t’ know wot’s goin’ on. Did ya think I were jus’ playin’ with ya fer a while so I could tease ya ‘bout it? Izzat wot’s wrong?”

He hated to even admit it, and when he opened trembling lips, all that he bleated forth was another sob. Unable to speak, he found himself nodding slightly before burying his face in his hands and curling further in on himself. He wasn’t sure what to believe, now, and everything was so mucked up in his head.

That response hurt, and it might as well have been a knife to the karadji’s heart. He’d been doing everything he knew to keep the vampire comfortable and make him feel safe, so where had he gone wrong? In that moment, he felt entirely helpless. How could he prove that he didn’t have any ulterior motives this time? He sort of wished he could call the drag queen, then. Issy did this a lot, apparently, so surely she knew how to handle it, right? But that might just make things worse, and with Conrad  _so_  skittish… Luce didn’t want to risk anything that would break him. Not now. Not when he was  _so_  fragile.

“I dunno wot t’ tell ya, Connie. I dunno wot t’ do t’ show ya I mean it,” he admitted quietly. “I know… I know I ain’t got a whole lotta limits when it comes t’ wot I will an’ won’t use against someone, but… This ain’t never meant fer humiliation or degradation. I drew a line at this. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t tease ya light ‘bout it. Rib ya a little, but… Connie, this weren’t _never_ intended t’ hurt ya or make ya scared I was gonna. I dun wanna be someone yer afraid t’ ever come t’ ‘bout shite… ‘Specially sommat important.”

Even as he spoke, a cold chill crept up his own spine. That sounded soft and a little too saccharine if he gave it much thought – something totally against his usual character. Maybe that’s what Conrad had meant about ‘being nice’. Oh, he’d put on a show for folks to force their guards down now and again, but… This time, he was being disgustingly genuine. And what did it have to say about the sort of man he was that Conrad couldn’t tell the difference? That twisted his gut in the most uncomfortable ways.

Slowly, so as not to startle the other man, he rose to his feet and moved back to the sofa, plopping down on the far cushions so that adequate space would still be between himself and the sobbing vampire still on the floor.

“M’ right here if’n ya need me.” He didn’t want to wash his hands of it all, but what else was there to do but wait for the other man to come to him?

Conrad did not respond for several minutes and remained where he sat, struggling to catch his breath and at least feign some semblance of calm. When he was finally able to regain his voice, he straightened his posture by a fraction – not daring to look back at the karadji just yet.

“You… You promise? You f-fucking _swear_?” he guttered hoarsely.

Luce arched his brows, but nodded none-the-less. “On my magic… I fuckin’ swear. This were meant fer _you_ , Connie. Not fer my own gain. Jus’…gimme a chance t’ prove it t’ ya.”

The silence that hung between them was thick – cut only by the pathetic sniffles the vampire emitted as he tried to cease his tears. Soon enough, however, he nodded and cautiously crawled up onto the sofa to lean, unsure, toward Luce.

“Ya need a cuddle, love?” The query came barely above a whisper.

Ducking his head, Conrad nodded again – not trusting his voice to remain steady enough for a proper answer. As soon as he’d given his consent, the older man shifted closer and reached out to gently remove his glasses. Before the artist could complain, he felt the soft cotton tail of a battered t-shirt brushing his cheeks and wiping the bloody trails away from his pale face. He leaned tiredly into the touch – completely drained and still attempting to sort out his emotions – and when Luce had finished, nestled tightly against a bony chest.

“There’s a good lad. I’m so proud’a ya fer tryin’, Connie, an’… I’m sorry if’n I went an’ mucked it all up. We don’t ever gotta do this ‘gain if’n ya don’t wanna. It were jus’ an idea,” the blonde assured, offering the vampire’s back a few soothing pats.

Truthfully, Conrad wasn’t sure he never wanted to try again, but the swirling thoughts cluttering his head would hardly allow him to focus much on it. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and tightened his arms around the scrawny man. “Can we…talk about it later?”

“Yeah… Whenever ya want.”

That was a relief to hear. All he wanted to do just then was rest and try to find it in himself to trust that Luce wouldn’t do something awful in the interim. As it turned out, for once, he had nothing to worry about.


End file.
